Running for Eternity
by LittleMartian
Summary: Modern day Zutara (w/ bending). In order to save her father's life, Katara must become a part of Sozin Corporation, and be trained by Ozai's heir, Zuko. She must become the Painted Lady.But perhaps her joining the lucrative organization wasn't an accident all together? What secret does Katara hold deep inside of her? Does she want any part of it?
1. Prologue

**Hello everyone, my name is Little Martian and I am sharing with you a MAJOR plot bunny that I've had for a while. This is the second most popular story idea that I had on my poll on my profile. I was originally going to write the Post-War Zutara, but I needed a break from the world of Royalty. **

**Instead, I am writing this modern day Zutara fic. If features a mafia-like organized crime institution known as Sozin Corp., a company that runs everything legitimate and illegitimate in the entire world. The geography is the same, so there is the Fire Nation, Earth Kingdom, Water Tribe, and Air Temples, BUT everything's been given a modern flavor.**

**This story will have bending, Spirits, Magic, and everything. Title and summary are subject to change.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Air bender. I write this only for the enjoyment of myself, and other.**

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><p><em>Prologue <em>

He lifted the curtain just enough to let in some of the fading sunlight into the room. His eyes trained on the single solitary road stretching across the desert sand. He watched each car as it passed, following it with his eyes until it disappeared beyond the horizon and from his line of sight. He coughed; the curtain was as dirty and dusty as the rest of this filthy place. The late afternoon light hit the moldy yellow walls of the cheap motel room, giving everything a sickly color. Zuko frowned at the place he'd landed them for the night. It wasn't the Palace, that's for sure, but it was something to tide them over until nightfall. That was the thing that he hated the most. It was just for one night. Nothing permanent, nothing solid or secure. They'd go from place to place, moving only at night, trying to stay one step ahead of the bloodhound-like-hunters that were tracking them down.

He placed his hands on the windowsill feeling the grit and grime on the wooden surface that had been there since who knows when and grimaced. Focusing, he stared out at the desert landscape, trying to figure out where they would head next. Nothing out there but orange dust and dead grass. Hundreds of miles of land separated many towns in the Southern part of the Earth Kingdom…and the few towns that did exist offered no shelter, no rest. The only rest points were shady motels like this one, and the hotels that did background checks. But they had no choice but to stay in the motels. Even if the Yu-yan Archers _weren't _hunting them down day and night, they couldn't afford those places anyway. All of their money was gone.

He heard a rat somewhere. This place was disgusting. It was out of the way, along some backwater road, away from prying eyes. This place was better suited for more…unsavory things. Extortion, bribery, prostitution, it didn't matter what. When they'd arrived, Katara nearly dead from exhaustion, he asked the concierge for a room, paid the appropriate amount of money—700 dollars— and was given a room. No questions asked. No names taken. Privacy cost more. There was only the exchange of money and the room key. Even if he had asked for a name, Zuko would have given a fake one.

They couldn't afford to be caught now. They could trust no one but each other.

He'd seen the wanted posters plastered everywhere, blaring his face across the country like an angry red target on his back. They'd been on the run for months now, leaving a trail like a river cutting through a valley. Easily traceable. Easily detected. But for some reason, no one recognized them. Maybe those that had…didn't want to call the Yu-yan. Maybe they had their own secrets to hide. But not everyone was as afraid of the Yu-yan as most of the country was. Sooner or later, someone was going to connect the dots, someone was going to realize that he wasn't some wanderer named Lee as he claimed to be. Someone was going to realize that the girl he was with wasn't named Sapphire like she said she was. All it took was a memory, and that damn wanted poster.

They had to keep moving.

He looked down at his simple undershirt and faded jeans. He looked normal. If it wasn't for the Scar he could walk around like this in public, no problem. But the Scar would be a _dead_ giveaway.

If the Sozin Corporation wanted you dead, they'd find you. No matter what.

The last few rays of the sun faded away, and the sky turned a dusky purple. Zuko's face turned grim. It was time to start moving again. Turning away from the window, the curtain falling back into place, he walked over to the large heart-shaped bed in the middle of the room. Katara's body lay stretched out on the bed, taking up most of the space. Her clothes still lay in the pile by the foot of the bed, where she dropped them at around 3 o'clock this morning before crashing. He didn't get much sleep. 3, maybe 4 hours _at most_, just enough to keep running, moving, and fighting to stay alive. They'd been lucky so far. They hadn't had to fight anyone yet. He and Katara avoided the major cities, sneaking through forests, walking down empty, dusty roads. He was always planning, always thinking…but he had the strangest feeling that his luck was going to run out soon.

He bent down, picking up the dark jeans and large sweatshirt that she used to cover herself during the day. He looked down at the girl that he had followed literally to the end of the Earth. She looked peaceful, with dark hair falling down her back in dark waves, her eyes closed in a peaceful dream. He'd hate to wake her up, he always did, but it was necessary.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a little shake. Katara made no movement or acknowledged that she heard him. Spirits, she slept like the dead. "Katara," He whispered softly, hoping for once that he would not have to wake her up the usual way. He tried again, _louder._ "Katara, we have to leave…_now_."

Katara's eyes snapped open, glowing a bright blue in the near darkness like a woman possessed. The necklace on her neck glowed brightly as well.

"Zuko." She hissed. Her hand fisted in his shirt, yanking him towards her so their faces were level. Any other interaction like this would have made his heart race, but now was not the time. Katara's face was too serious, and too scared. She took a deep breath. "Something's wrong. I don't know how they found us, but they did. The Yu-yan Archers are _here_."

"Are we going to die?" Zuko asked her grimly. He'd go down fighting if he had to.

"We can't take all of them." Katara said solemnly. "So, _yes_. We're going to die."

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><p><strong>I know it's weird, but it will get better, I <strong>**_promise_****. My stories always start out short and not making any sense, but they get better as they go along. **

**Let me know anything you think is wrong, or you think might happen!**

**Please read and review! Oh and check out my other story ****_The Palace! (Shameless Self Promotion) _**


	2. The Only Home She's Ever Known

**Hello everyone, thank you for reading, and an extra special thank you to everyone that reviewed. I love reviews, and they seriously inspire me.**

*****This is probably one of the very few long authors notes in the story. PLEASE READ IT****

**I do have a warning though. The characters in this story will be a bit OOC. Actually, a little bit more than that. But all I ask is that you **_**trust**_** me, and if anything is completely offensive, then tell me in a review or PM and I will change it.**

**Things you should know: There is no Avatar, so Aang is just an ordinary airbender boy. I'd like to think that the events of ATLA still happened, and are matters of legend. Bending doesn't exist—yet. It takes about 200-300 years in the future, much like today's modern day society. Everyone's ages have been bumped up by 2. So Katara is 16, Sokka is 17, etc. etc.**

**I know that the seasons are opposite on either side of the equator winter=summer etc, **_**but**_**, because I live in New York, I really don't want to expend the mental stress trying to figure out whether my characters should be wearing a jacket or not. I apologize if it's offensive, but...yeah.**

**I haven't watched Legend of Korra, personally because I never got into the first season.**

**One more thing, so while the story is set in modern-ish times, they still retain ancient Asian historical things. For example books look like **_**this**_**.**

http upload/content /editImage/table_ (Although I know that is Korean and

_**not**_** Chinese or Japanese, but you get the idea) **

**Onto the story~**

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><p><strong>Chapter One: The Only Home She's Ever Known<strong>

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><p>She wakes up screaming.<p>

Terrible sounds that tear her throat raw.

A light sheen of sweat covers her body, and her dark hair sticks to her back, neck and shoulders making her feel even_ hotter_. Her vision is blurry, she cannot tell if she is in her own room, or even Kyoshi Island at all. She screams until her throat is sore, and even then, the terrifying noise keeps coming. Her mouth is still frozen in a silent scream, pain etched on her pretty face. Her heart beats faster and faster until it feels like it is going to burst out of her chest and her insides are going to collapse.

She wraps her arms around herself, trying to pull herself together. But it won't work. It never does. The only thing she can do is wait until the images flashing through her mind are _gone_ for the time being. Finally, her expression softens and her hands come up to wipe the tears away from her cheeks. She is so _tired_. She falls back on her pillow, the clock on her dresser taunting her lack of sleep. She glares at the object immaturely, and then feels like an idiot once the angry red letters keep flashing 2:00 AM.

She lets out a deep breath, sighing in near relief. Perhaps it was over, and she could finally get some sleep.

But she quickly recants as she's rocked by a violent tremor. Her body convulses, turning on itself as burst of pain flow from her fingertips to her core. Her eyes squeeze shut, as though she can block the pain, if she can block her vision. She can feel little bursts of pain hit specific locations of her body simultaneously, small as pinpricks and yet it rocks her senseless. She curls into a ball on her bed, trying to block out the feelings, but nothing works.

She barely hears her bedroom door burst open with a _bang_, the doorknob probably making a dent in her wall, but suddenly her father is there, wrapping her in his arms and he is _warm _and _comforting _and somehow takes a bit of the pain away. She is crying now, more than before, because the pain is _worse_ than the nightmares, because a nightmare isn't _real_. But this pain _is_ and she doesn't know why she feels this way and no one bothers to explain. She cluches her father's nightshirt in her fingertips, digging her nails into his skin.

"Sokka!" Her father barks, but his voice sounds far away to her ears. Her body feels heavy and she feels like she's drowning, but that's impossible. She's known how to swim since she was two.

Sokka doesn't reply, but she hears noises—he's fumbling around with something on her dresser, which would have normally gotten her upset, but she didn't care. She hears his footsteps grow closer, and with a "Here you go, dad," something cool presses against her neck, in the hollow of her throat and she hears the click of a clasp. And then, all at once—there's nothing.

The pain ebbs away from her fingertips and toes, and with it goes the heat. Her head can stop pounding and she feels allright. Once the necklace is secure, she's normal, like nothing happened. She opens her eyes, and stares up into her father's dark blue eyes, and she's calm. He's sitting on her bed, an Katara feels like a child again, running to him after the nightmares happened the first time. But he doesn't look as relieved as she feels. His eyes are narrowed, angry with her, but also full of fear and worry. She can understand. It's not easy for a parent to watch their child be in pain.

"Dad?" She asks softly, sitting up. He lets her go, and she, Sokka and her father are sitting on her bed, wearing 3 completely different expressions.

He doesn't answer for a while, long enough for Sokka to take her hand in his own and squeeze it softly. She whisperes, "I'm okay," and her father glares at her. She'd never seen her father so _angry_ before.

"Obviously you're _not_ okay Katara." He points to the bedsheets, damp with sweat. "I shouldn't have to hear my daughter screaming her lungs out nearly every night."

"It's not _every_ night, " She protests. "And it's not like I can control it Dad. The nightmares just come to me. I _can't_ control them." She leans over and pulls a sweater off her dresser. She puts it on, to give her hands something to do with all her pent up energy.

"You _can_ control them, Katara." Hakoda told her sternly. "You can _always_ control your dreams."

"_No_ I can't." He frowned at her, but she kept talking. "I can't control these. I know that I'm asleep, but the images that pass through my mind can't be altered or changed. It's like I'm watching a movie or something."

"Katara this _isn't_ normal. If your mother were here she'd—" He starts to say, before his voice catches in his throat and he makes a half-choked sort of a sentence. He looks at his two children, his eyes lingering on Katara for a few moments more before he shakes his head and lets out a deep sigh. "Well it doesn't matter what she would say, because she isn't here to say it."

"Dad…" Katara sighed. It's still heart-wrenching to see how much her mother's death affected her father, especially when given the circumstances surrounding the entire thing.

"I'm fine, Katara. And you appear to be as well." He eyes her for a moment more, before looking at sokka and shrugging. "_Now_, at least."

"I mean, you don't look green anymore, Katara, if that's a start." Sokka laughs a bit, the mood lightening once Katara regains her senses. But he looks at her suspiciously, a certain shiftiness gathering behind his dark blue eyes. "But what were you dreaming about, anyway?"

For a second, Katara is tempted to reveal what she'd seen in her dream, but like every night that this happened, she couldn't bear the looks of guilt on her family's face. To see her father's eyes fill with sorrow and hidden pain, not only for her but also for memories long gone, it was too much for her to stand. So she smiled and laughed along with Sokka, shrugging her shoulders and saying, "Oh nothing much, just Master Oyaji's test tomorrow."

Her father's eyes focus on her, and she can tell that he _knows_ she's lying, but he doesn't say anything, much to her relief. She'll tell him one day, when the pain doesn't cloud his eyes and the worry lines fade from his face.

Sokka's eyes bulge and he stiffens, mouth opening with a 'pop'. "Wait, that's _tomorrow_?" He gasps, looking very much like a fish out of water. But then he thinks for a moment, relaxes, and lets out a sigh. "The test is only for the 10th years, I'm a grade above you."

Katara smirks and shakes her head, pitying her older brother. "He's testing all of his history classes tomorrow, or tather—today." She smiles sweetly, eyeing the clock on the dresser, now flashing 2:27 AM in big red letters.

Sokka narrows his eyes at her in mock anger, eyes shifting from Katara to their father. But Hakoda did not look at the clock like Katara was doing. He stares at his son with a stern expression, mouth pressed into a hard line. "Your grades will be better this time, I hope, Sokka?"

"Sure dad," Sokka shrugs, dropping the subject with a wave of his hand. "I got it, no problem—And _hey_, my Geography grades went up last semester." He attempts to distract his father, but to no avail.

"Sokka, you must be well-rounded." Hakoda says to his son, while Sokka shrugs sheepishly.

"But _Dad_, you should see the tactical games that my friends and I play—I mean—_strategize_. After all, knowing a place's geography is the easiest way to defeat your opponent." He says proudly, as though he was spouting some highly intellectual quote.

Katara snorts, nearly doubling over in laughter. "What war are you fighiting, Sokka?" she asks sarcastically. "There hasn't been a war in nearly 200 years, which you'd _know_ if you paid attention more in Master Oyaji's class."

"You never know," Sokka retorted indignantly, "Maybe the Fire Nation will try to take over the world again."

Katara opens her mouth to retort, but it comes as more of a yawn, her arms stretching out above her head. Lack of sleep was _seriously_ getting to her. "Yes, Sokka, and when it does, you'll be the only one ready." She mumbles sleepily, the teasing tone lost from her voice.

"Since the both of you have such an _important _test tomorrow," Their father says, looking at his children with exasperated eyes. He has heard arguments like this before. Although he understands how his children could argue so many times about the same topic. "I think that it would be best if both of you got some rest."

He stands, pulling her brother along with him. "Goodnight Dad." She whispers, and Sokka mumbles his own goodbye. But her father doesn't say anything. As he leaves her room, he smiles down at his daughter, a kind of sadness in his eyes, and she understands—because she _knows,_ what he sees when he looks at her. He sees Katara—a near carbon copy of her mother, Kya.

And as the door shuts with a soft 'click', Katara knows that she will not be sleeping anytime soon. Because she will be consumed with guilt, because she cannot tell her father and brother what exactly she sees in her dreams. She knows they worry about her endlessly, and letting them know will only cause them to worry more. Like her father said, this wasn't normal, and she had no idea why _she_ was cursed with reliving the painful memories nearly every night in her dream.

Subconsuously, her fingertips traced the carvings on the necklace clasped around her neck. The stone is cool to the touch, as it always is. She'd worn it for most of her life, and yet…Somehow, _this _stopped the nightmares. Whenever she wore it clasped around her neck, she felt no pain, no sadness…just…sleep.

So she would keep wearing it.

Because how could she tell her father that nearly every night, she saw her mother die right before her eyes?

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><p>"Just give me the answer for number 4, this will be the last time I ask you, I <em>swear<em>." Sokka pleads before the passing librarian shushes him. He glances up at her with a sheepish grin, offering an apology. But once she leaves, he is back to pestering his girlfriend and sister sitting at his table. "C'mon Suki, it's not even like this test is that _important_."

Suki just sighs and shakes her head, giving Katara a knowing look. Katara just smirks and straightens out her uniform, a light green shirt with a forest green pleated skirt, accented by golden cuffs and a golden tie. Her hair is pinned in a braid, and she plays with the end of it as she reads her textbook.

Suki, dressed in the same uniform, rolls her eyes at her boyfriend."That's what you said about question 3, question 2 and question 1. You should have studied." Katara chuckles quietly to herself and continues reading her textbook, a stack of papers bound together by wire and thread. They really needed to be replaced, the paper is frayed at the edges and the pages are starting to yellow.

But the School of Kyoshi Island is small, with barely 100 students to fill its classrooms. The children of Kyoshi Island spread themselves across every level from 1st year to 12th year. Classes were small with eight or nine students in each class, and most of the students would be filling their parent's shoes in family businesses so they had no real _need _to want textbooks that are more relevant and new. But Katara had plans to attend Ba Sing Se University once she left Kyoshi Island and become a Healer. It would be difficult, but she'd make it.

"It's not my fault that Master Oyaji gives _so much reading_." Sokka protests, but Suki will have none of it. Seeing that his girlfriend will be of no help, he turns to Katara. She looks up, knowing what he'll ask. "Katara, you're friends with Song, right? Did you hear _anything_ about the test?"

"Sokka," Suki frowns. "Song is the smartest girl in our year! She wouldn't—,"

"The test is mostly short answer from what I've heard." Katara said softly, and she watches Sokka's head fall into his hands and despair cross his face. "There isn't any multiple choice questions after Miyako cheated last year."

"You _can't_ be serious." He groaned, voice muffled by his hands. "I'm _doomed._"

"Alright I'll help you." Suki closes her Mathematics textbook with an audible snap and looks her boyfriend in the eyes. Katara loved seeing them together, because Sokka was so broken after the death of their mother, Katara was happy that he'd found someone to rely on. And they really did complement each other, Suki was very no-nonsense, and she balanced out Sokka's lame jokes and provided some motivation for Sokka to try harder in school.

Searching through her satchel, Suki pulls out her "History of the Four Nations, Year 11 Edition" textbook and flips through the pages of the book rapidly, pausing at a certain section. "Okay," she says, finger pointing to a specific topic. Her eyes zero in on Sokka's nervous face. "How many Nations were there in the past? Did anything threaten the balance of these Nations? Is that still true today?"

Sokka's face shows no sign of the question registering. "W-What?" He asks. "That's obvious—There's _3_—no, wait, there's _4…_Right?" His head inches forward to try and peek at the answer from the book that Suki's holding, but she slams it shut before he can even try.

"Sokka, don't you know the answer?" Katara says, eyes still reading her own History of the Four Nations textbook. Although she is in Year 10, history is her favorite subject and she reads about it as much as she can.

"Well if you know so much, why don't you answer the question?" He huffs out, annoyance on his face.

"Go ahead Katara." Suki says softly.

Katara takes a deep breath, and starts explaining, more because she loves the topic than for Sokka's actual benefit. "Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Water. Fire. Earth. Air. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the Avatar, master of all four elements, could stop them, but when the world needed him most, he vanished. A hundred years passed and the Avatar reappeared again, but as a young boy. Eventually, he mastered all four elements and defeated the Pheonix King in battle."

"Doesn't that count as more mythology than actual history?" Sokka rolls his eyes. "I mean, someone being able to actually _bend_ elements to their every wish? That's not even true."

"Historical texts say that it's _true_ Sokka." Katara frowns. The story of the Avatar defeating the Fire Lord was one of her favorite stories as a child, and she never liked when Sokka told her that the Avatar and bending never existed. "That the last Avatar to exist was a 12-year-old boy who mastered all 4 elements by summer's end."

"Next question then, Sokka." Suki says, moving down a few paragraphs. "Why is there no Avatar now?"

"Don't even ask. I have _no_ idea." Sokka shrugs. Suki nods, as though she expected this.

"Because the last Avatar was killed in the while he was in the Avatar State underneath Ba Sing Se." Katara says, turning to that very page in her own textbook. "And without the Avatar, all forms of Bending ceased to exist."

"But then how did he survive to defeat the Fire Lord?" Sokka asks her. "Or was it the Pheonix King—Did anyone actually _call_ him that? Sounds like a major ego booster to me."

"His waterbending master brought him back to life—I think." She tells him, quickly scanning the page herself to validate the facts. She smiles contently. She was right. "But because he already _died_, the Avatar state was broken."

"Sucks for them." Sokka says, shrugging. He wiggles his eyebrows mischeviously. "Could you imagine an Avatar our age with the power of 4 elements? Blowing down a house each time he sneezed and then lighting it on fire when he—,"

"That's enough, Sokka." Suki orders, flipping to another page. "Now do you want help or _not_?" She starts to close the book.

His hand dives between the closing pages of the book and his eyes water with pain when Suki slams the book shut on his hand. "N-No, I _do_. Come on Suki, I need it." He pleads, and Katara wonders how Suki could put up with Sokka on a daily basis. Katara is his sister, so they were bound together by blood. Suki hung around her brother by _choice_.

The auburn haired girl sighs, exasperated, and then opens the book back up. "Alright, last question. If you don't get this right, I'm not helping you anymore." She clears her throat and starts to read. "Why are there Four _technical_ nations, but not four different locations for them?"

"Huh?" Sokka questions, "What the heck is that supposed to mean? Lemme see that book." He makes a grab for the book but Suki pulls it out of the way of his reach.

"Basically," Suki narrows her eyes at him, sounding more than a little annoyed. "What happened to the Water Tribe?"

"Um…" Sokka pauses and Suki's glare intensifies. "N-No wait, I know this…Something to do with Gran-Gran?"

Suki groans and rubs at her temples before passing the book to Katara. "Here, you tell him. I think I'm going to hit him if I have to so much as _look_ at him right now."

Katara raises an eyebrow at her brother. "Sokka this is Water Tribe history! _Our_ history! How can you not know this?" But Sokka just gives her a blank look. She sighs and starts explaining, looking in the Year 11 textbook to see if she's right. "50 years ago, the North and South Poles were deemed unfit to live in by the Council. So all of the Water Tribe scattered in each direction. Some went to the Fire Nation, but most went to the Earth Kingdom and set up villages by rivers and lakes."

"Oh. That isn't so hard to remember. But then why did you tell me it had something to do with Gran-Gran?"

"_Sokka!_" The boy in question recoils from the book that his angry girlfriend is swinging at him. "I told you that to help you remember it. Your grandmother is 66 years old, right? So she would have been 16 when she and her family left the South Pole and came to live here on Kyoshi."

A look of realization passes over Sokka's face. "Ohhh…Right…Well why didn't you say that in the first place?"

Suki just groans and lets her head fall into her hands.

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><p>An hour later, Katara hands in her test to her teacher, earning a smile from him in return. She's the first one finished, as always, and quickly gathers her things and leaves the room without another word. Everyone is still taking the test, and she can see Miyako scratching her head in confusion. She shakes her head and slides the door closed behind her.<p>

Sokka and Suki are waiting outside the classroom with the other Year 11 students, though the rest are off to the side, probably studying themselves. As soon as she turns around, Sokka is there, grabbing her shoulders as if for dear life.

"How was it? How many questions were there? Is Oyaji in a good mood? Do you think he'll let me use my textbook?" He fires these questions rapidly; Katara barely has time to catch them all. Pulling her brother's hands from around her shoulders, she pats them lightly, smiling knowingly at him.

"It wasn't too bad, but then again, no history test is ever difficult for me. Sixteen questions, _all_ short answer. Master Oyaji is in a _very_ good mood_,_ and _no_, I don't think he'll let you use your textbook."

"Sokka," Suki tried to calm her boyfriend. "You don't have anything to worry about."

Sokka frowns. "That's easy for you to say, Oyaji is your cousin's brother or something like that." He sinks to the ground, shaking his head. "He'll probably fail me because I'm dating _you_."

"He's my uncle, and _no_ you won't fail." She laughs, joining him on the tiled ground. "I really don't think it'll be that hard."

"I'm doomed."

There really was no getting through to Sokka once he'd made up his mind about something. She turns to leave, but Suki stops her. "Katara where are you headed now? Back to the library?"

Katara shakes her head no. "I thought that since I got let out early because of the test, I'd go home and get a head start on dinner."

Sokka's head lifted up immediately at the prospect of food. "Yes. You should go do that Katara, go hurry up with dinner." He waved his hand towards the exit and Katara scoffs at the unappreciative way he just _dismissed_ her.

Katara's hands flew to her hips and she narrows her eyes at her brother. "I'm not doing the cooking because I'm a _girl_, you know. I'm only doing it because Gran-Gran is too old and between you and Dad, we'd have nothing to eat."

"Mhm," Sokka mumbled half-heartedly. "You're a strong independent woman. Got it."

Katara huffs, hands balling into fists, turns on her heel and storms out of the school building, her bag nearly hitting Sokka in the face.

"Hey!" He cries out, but Katara ignores him and keeps walking. He turns to Suki. "What'd I say?"

She just shakes her head at him and plants a kiss on his cheek, resting her head on his shoulder. The opening of Oyaji's classroom door breaks up the peaceful moment. A balding man peers down at the couple, and Sokka looks up and shivers at the angry look in the old teacher's eyes.

He says sternly, "Suki. Mister Lan." Sokka gulped. "Will you have the decency to be _quiet_? I have students taking an exam. A rather _difficult_ exam, I might add." His eyes focused in on in on Sokka as the door slammed shut

Sokka's head fell on Suki's shoulder. "I am _so_ done for."

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><p>Katara hums quietly to herself as she walks down the pathway leading from the School of Kyoshi Island. The School is housed in the Old Dojo that used to be there in the old days when the people of Kyoshi actually needed a small army. But after 200 years of peace, people decided to turn it into a place to educate the youth of the small island town.<p>

She walks out of the forest, along the stone walkway set up and under the wooden arch signaling the entrance to the school. She walks through the marketplace, loving the smell of the salty sea air and letting out a deep breath. It isn't the same as 200 years ago, where only dirt roads lined the streets and sparse stalls dotted the corners. Now there are shops, and other stores creating a All around her, merchants announce what they're selling and she is so tempted to buy a custard tart from the bakery next to the entrance.

Katara looks down at her watch, and sees that it's nearly 4 in the afternoon, and knowing Sokka, he wouldn't finish the test until at _least_ a few hours from now, making timing perfect. She picked up a few items from shops, carrying them home in a paper bag. She also gives into one of her weaknesses gets 4 custard tarts, one for each member of her family.

Her arms full of groceries, she heads towards home, towards the path winding up the mountainside of Kyoshi Island. She pauses for a moment and shrugs on a blue hoodie from her backpack, tightening up the zipper to her neck. Sometimes, she really hated the cold. She'd once asked her grandmother why they lived so high above the rest of the town. Her house was always chilly, and it snowed much heavier at that altitude than the rest of the viliage. Her grandmother had told her it was how she 'kept to her roots'. By being in the cold air constantly, her grandmother could pretend that she was back at the South Pole, where the igloos and cities weren't abandoned to time.

Coming to the the first plateau, she smiles as she comes face to face with her childhood home. Her great-grandparents moved to the home after they left the Water Tribe. It's also the home her grandmother lived in with her soon-to-be husband Pakku, and the home her father was born in. When her mother moved to the small island from Omashu, she said she liked the quiet of this house more than the bustling city. She and Sokka, while born in the then newly constructed Kyoshi hospital, only knew of this place as their home. It's the only home she's ever known.

Nothing had changed about it in the near two decades she'd been alive, it was the same two-story building with a rickety fence surrounding the small garden outside the front window. Her mother had loved that garden. Azaleas, lilies, blue and white roses all bloomed and flourished under her mother's care. But once she'd died—well—no one wanted to touch something that wasn't theirs.

Yes, in nearly twenty years, the house hadn't changed. Except for today. That's because today, there were strange men in black suits standing outside of her house, arms clasped together. They looked like bodyguards for someone rich—or famous—or _both_. They each wore dark red ties, and judging by their pale skin, Katara identified them as Fire Nation, though it's possible they could have been from the Earth Kingdom.

She moved closer, trying to go up the stairs and into the house, but one of the men blocked her path. "Where do you think you're going, little missy?" He asks, peering at her through his dark sunglasses. If she saw his eyes, she'd be able to tell.

"Um…I live here." She says nervously, trying to move around him. She went to the left—he went to the right, creating a weird dance between the two of them, taking place on her front porch steps.

The man sighs, clearly annoyed with her. "Look little girl—" He started, but was cut off as a loud grunt and muffled curse escapes from the door to her house.

_Dad. That sounds like Dad._

With strength she _definitely_ should not have possessed, Katara somehow shoved the man clad in black aside and burst through the unlocked door to her house. She slides the door open with a shove, and it hits the wall with a _bang_ but she doesn't care. The groceries and school bag drop to the floor with a loud clatter, and she's quite certain that the eggs broke, but she hurries through the house to find her father instead.

She finds him in the living room, crumpled to a ball on the floor. There is only one man in front of him, and his back is to her. She can see his white hair and thick sideburns and the wicked start of a smile on his face.

"Now I ask you again, Hakoda. Where is it?" He says in a demanding tone. But her father doesn't reply, he is only on the ground, whimpering in pain.. "Don't make me ask _again_." The older man snaps, eyes narrowing.

Katara wants to run to her father, to hide him away from those so desperately trying to harm him. But she cannot move. She is frozen in fear and confusion; she does not realize what is going on. Her voice is broken, much like her father's appearance, doubled over on the ground as he was.

"_Dad_." She breathes, and fear courses through her veins as the man turns toward her, eyes narrowing at her intrusion.

It's a whisper, but they hear it anyway. Her father looks up, dark eyes bretraying the pain he felt. He squeezes his eyes shut to block out some of the pain, but Katara knows what he feels because she's felt it herself during her nightmares. The attacker's face is older than she once thought. Deep lines are set in his face, though from age or stress, she cannot tell. His mouth is etched in what appears to be a permanent frown, and his eyes are narrowed in anger. He is familiar to her—and yet she cannot place him in her memories.

"Katara—," Her father gasps out, voice choked. "What—are you—doing here?"

"Master Oyaji's test." She softly explains, taking a step backward. "I…um…I got out early."

The stranger's eyes focus on her, widening for a moment and then focusing on her face—no not her face, her neck. Subconsiously, her hands found her throat, and rested on her mother's necklace clasped around it tightly.

"Well…" he says confidently, stepping forward. "It looks like I've found what I seek."

"Leave her—alone, Yon Rha!" Her father says with a bite in her voice. "She has nothing to do with this."

But Yon Rha smiles, it is a creul and wicked smile, one that Katara has seen before. It is the same smile from her nightmares, and she hates him instantly. He walks to her, and suddenly his face is close to hers, and he is running a bony finger down her cheek and pausing at her chin. She can feel the hot air from his breath on her skin and she resists the urge to slap him.

He coos, "So pretty—just like her mother." He knew her mother. But Katara grits her teeth and says nothing. Yon Rha steps back, and offers his hand, as though welcoming her to something. He says very persuasively, "Tell me girl—how would you like to save your father's life?"

* * *

><p><strong>So that's the end of that chapter! I'm sorry this is so late, I'm nearing final exams and ugh work has been hectic. Not much goes on in this chapter, except well…you know. I just want you to kind of know how the world has changed.<strong>

**Anyway, please read and review! Today, November 26 is my **_**birthday**_** and I am 19 years old! I don't look it, I think, but it would make me happier than anything if you all left a review today—or tomorrow—or whenever.**

**Thank you so much for reading!  
><strong>

**LM**


	3. Chapter 3

**PLEASE READ THIS :)**

Hello all,

I know, I know, I haven't updated in forever. The reason is that this story wasn't REALLY ready to be uploaded. I just felt like it was something I should do. I hadn't even ironed out the plot yet, and there are so many plotholes its not even funny. So, I'm going to put this story on hiatus while I finish my other story, The Palace, and then when the sequel is almost done, I'm going to upload it again, and _this_ time, it'll be perfect. I promise.

Until then, while The Palace (and its sequel) is going on, I'm going to post the story I should have put up from the begninng. The Winner of the poll on my profile.

This is the summary (subject to change):

Post War Zutara: Power is terrifying, gratifying and satisfying all in the same breath. And as always, with that power comes responsibility—and even more enemies. Zuko carries the fate of the Fire Nation on his shoulders, and he is crumbling beneath the weight of it. Katara believes that he shouldn't have to carry it alone. Unfortunately, others don't agree with her.

Any suggestions or things, elements or **_pairings_** that you would like, just drop me a PM or leave a review!

I hope you can forgive me for this inconsistency, and it will never happen again. I hope.

Thank you for all of your support

LM

The new story will be unveiled, January 5th 2015, and that is also when Running for Eternity will go on hiatus.


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